Is this what I am living for?
by JJ03090
Summary: A world on the brink of WW2 begins with a simple meeting. Slowly everything begins to become twisted, trying to keep everyone together on the Allied side, England struggles with his own personal demons.
1. Chapter 1

**This is a new story I had an Idea for. Enjoy!**

England was not always the person that he was. His eyes at once had retained a sparkle that spread from person to person. England had once had hope, he had once believed in love. It was fair to say after all of the years, England did not believe in love anymore.

His eyes had grown dull and judgemental, his lips formed into an angry purse, and his eyebrows had well, they had grown a lot too. Not that this had anything to do with his sullen attitude, but they had grown, a lot.

He impatiently tapped his pencil on his notepad at the big meeting. Of course every country was different, America sat there drawing impatient doodles on his notepad. This meeting was mostly boring, it was Germany telling his financial issues to the group, Italy was of course agreeing with him thoroughly.

England found it hard to pay attention. He was tired as all hell, nightmares had kept him up again. He fell asleep various times just to find himself shaken awake into existence once more. He had nightmares from the last war, of course it had been years since it happened.

He still could sometimes feel the mustard gas in his lungs, him coughing and coughing trying to expel it. He shuddered at the thought. He looked over at the German country everyone was pretending to listen to. He knew no one was on task or even listening to him, but he was talking non stop.

It wasn't like Germany looked well. He looked ill, maybe more like a skeleton than a person. _Well that is what he gets for not surrendering. Even Austria and Hungary knew when to give up._ He huffed a breath, in a world like this pity was very hard to muster. He knew that Germany had just chosen the wrong side of the battle, but when he had made the choice to sink America's ship, his goose was cooked.

He let his eyes glance over to the American, oh what a fool his former colony was. A strong fool that was, he of course didn't hold remorse against the bigger nation for leaving him. Everyone always left, he had gotten used to it the hundreds and hundreds of years that he had been alive.

Letting out a small sigh he looked away from the glutton. It made him upset to look at one person for more than a couple of moments. He knew everything about these people and most of it was not good.

His gaze had fallen on France.

What a complicated past they had. Now in this time of peace 1938, they had almost been peaceful for thirty four years. How had this come? Well they were both getting old… Fighting was just beginning to get boring.

How complicated had they gotten? Well that was between them and god. No one else had to know how deep their thoughts had gotten.

When he heard a loud clearing of his throat, he looked back over to Germany. When you thought about it, he did look a bit healthier than he had before. Strange, England wished that he honestly cared enough.

All of his feelings had melted away when his little brothers declared themselves uncolonized. Then everyone started to and… it was simply too sad to keep your emotions in check. He just got rid of them, enjoyed his solitude.

With another clearing of the throat, England was snapped from his thought bubble. "Well, with that I have nothing else to say, good day to all of you, enjoy your time in Munich.." With that Germany left the room.

There was chipper discussion from America to god knows who. England stood and picked up his empty notebook. He slipped it in his briefcase, and prepared himself to leave. He didn't feel the need to talk to anyone, he just wanted to waste time until his flight left in the morning.

"Hey Iggs! Wait up man!"

England couldn't help but to let a major groan slip his lips, "What America?" He said snippily turning to face the other country. "Hey! I know you Looove me lately, you know because of-." England rolled his eyes and began to genuinely not care.

He turned on his heel and began to leave the room, "No England! Seriously I have something important to talk about. Seriously, don't be so limey!" England allowed himself to pause so he could shoot a glare over his shoulder. "Get to your point, or I will beat you." He grumbled out the words obviously not amused.

"Dude it's been like two hundred years! Can't you forgive me? Like it's pretty easy to do."

 _Oh my bloody hell. He's on about this…_

"America, listen good and listen hard, because this is the last time that I am going to tell you this… I am not angry with you for leaving and becoming a nation-," "Oh that's great! Maybe we could ha-." With an irritated growl England replied, "I wasn't finished! You helped us out greatly in the last war, I commend that. You cannot expect things to go back to the way that they were when you were a colony." He said blandly.

He saw that hurt look on America's face and almost cracked a little. He didn't of course, the American shrugged, "Fine. I don't care, but if you get yourself in another tiff don't come around asking for my help!" England had always loved when America was little, how his cheeks would puff up when he was angry. They turned a bit rosy and they puffed out as he yelled.

A small laugh bubbled up in England's chest, he tried to suppress and stifle it. He couldn't help it, it started out as a small laugh, but it just turned into an aggressive laugh attack.

"Limey b-bastard!" America shouted angrily. England couldn't help, he was unable to stop laughing. "I hate you, you old shit!" With that there was an angry stomp, followed by a succession of angry stomps out of the room.

With this England was able to pull himself together, and stop laughing.

"That's the most I have seen you laugh in a while," England felt his face hot and rosy from all of the laughter, he immediately frowned when he turned. "It is fun to mess with him." He said breathing out in a sigh.

"What do you want?" He then said to the bearded man. "I just wanted to take a walk with you, we have some matters to discuss." England felt the unfortunate feeling of irritation drive into his chest. "Now?" He asked almost irritated.

France laughed and then nodded, "You remember our agreement?" The Englishman frowned and crossed his arms, he did. As much as he would like to deny it, he remembered.

"Ah….Hng….Oh...Francis stop that!... It isn't...ah..fair…" England felt like me might explode, bent over in the supply closet from the meeting room. His lips part and he felt a lengthy moan escape his lips. "Oh! France…." He whined rubbing himself as France went in and out of him.

"Hang on Angleterre… I am almost finished! How many times have you finished?" "Tw-Ah-Twice….." His fingers were sticky with seed. He stood there naked in his socks being pounded into by a baguette sniffing moron.

Of course, desperate times called for desperate measures, after the first war both countries had to heal wounds and deal with their loneliness. It happened a few times in year, England would get drunk, or France just bored.

England felt as if he would burst. He felt his eyes squeeze shut as he felt something somewhat warm fill him. He cried out and felt himself gush out the warm, squishy liquid from his own member. He breathed out heavily and then felt France's hand run down his length.

He felt the other sit inside of him for a moment before leaving and then leaving England there a bit of a mess. "That was fun." France slowly began to locate his clothes, Arthur stood there rubbing his temples with his non messy hand. "Oh goodness I have so many aches…. I feel filthy…"

Of course that applied for multiple ways, he was of course the mess that had frequently allowed someone penetrate his walls. He grabbed a couple of rags and began to wipe down his legs, he assumed that they were clean, well because this was Germany. He wiped the semen from his sore bottom and his hand.

"Bloody hell France, you could have been more gentle with me, I think you tore something." He said groaning. He heard a low masculine laugh, "Don't act like you did not like _lapin_ …" His voice was so low it made Arthur shuffle.

"Oh quiet you frog!" He said unsteadily, he shook off the feeling and began to put his clothes on, after getting his boxer briefs on. He watched France, he was looking directly at him. It made him shuffle, "Bullocks! What do you want France?"

Seemingly unaware he was staring at the dressing man, France almost blushed. "I just never realized how... it is nothing… I will see you around… We have a meeting next month to discuss the issues with the Germans.." He looked as if he didn't need to say more.

"Indeed. See you then frog."

With that the larger country left. He closed the door behind him. England let his grim expression remain. He hated how everything was always staying the same.

He hadn't thought to be careful what he wished for.


	2. Chapter 2

Arthur felt his breath hot in the middle of the winter. Of course he had been forced to France to talk about Germany's aggression in Poland. They had taken it over the small country and this was the last straw something needed to be done.

As Arthur stepped into the meeting building he saw a thin blond man. Francis didn't look the greatest, it looked as if he had not slept in a day or a couple of months. His usually jubilant eyes were dark with an anger.

"Good Morning France." France gave half a smile as a response. He looked very tired, almost as if he could fall asleep at any moment.

The both of them had already declared war on Germany, thinking of his boss was a crazy dictator. It was insanity what had been taking place, he got dizzy spells every so often, as any nation would from attacks.

He walked to sit at the table in the boring room they were meeting in. His vision got cloudy and before he knew it he had stumbled, he felt this drunk sensation wash over his weakening body. He felt strong hand pull him into a soft and warm chest.

"Anglais!" Francis's voice was shouted close to his ear. "I am fine Francis… Just give me a moment, the phases pass…" He whispered almost too softly. He felt Francis drag him along somewhere, he didn't really care where he was. He was somewhat curled up.

When he finally had come to his senses he felt something squishy around him. Not the soft mushy feel, but a soft and squishy feeling of a hard muscular chair. He gently began to blink back into the world.

He frowned feeling a breath behind his back. "France?"

" _Oui?_ "

"Why the bloody hell am I on your lap!?" He growled out standing quickly. He didn't realize how weakened he had become. He felt the fuzzy dots return and his body slump back to the others weight. He could feel something pressing against his bottom but tried to ignore it.

He felt warm hands on his shoulders attempting to rub some life back into him. He sighed and blinked his eyes lazily. "France…" He mumbled craning his neck to try and get himself less dizzy.

"Air strikes?" He heard gently. Arthur was able to get himself to nod. He felt himself very tired, he leant back, "Sorry we.. we have a meeting.. Can we remain seated…" Arthur asked gently. Francis sounded comfortable, "Okay! I will tell you a story…"

Arthur did not pay attention much to the story, there was some "Bushy British Princess," and a "Handsome, stunning man," he sighed and felt himself slowly relax, as he relaxed his fuzziness for the world began to fade. It slowly became somewhat more and more world like as Arthur woke from his stupor.

He laid back on Francis. He didn't see the harm in resting against him when there was no one around. "I have started the fight on our front. He is rigid, it is almost like there are angered children fighting in the axis…"

He said gently as Arthur rested against him. "Hmm... Germany has been particularly respondent to me. I feel like my country is beginning to fall into shambles." He opened his Emerald green eyes and gave a gentle smile, "War will be the death of all of us won't it?" he whispered gently resting his cheek against the others collarbone.

"See how much easier it is between us, when you do not fight me?" He said gently. His hand traced over Arthur's cheek and the country shuddered. "It would be a lovely fantasy, but we cannot be like this all the time, you know that a union would provide great weakness and vulnerability, for the both of us!" He said almost insisting.

"What if I said, that I do not care?" France's eyes sparkled as he said that causing England to shift in his arms. He turned sitting in the others lap, but now facing him. "It doesn't matter if you do not care, our countries have been at peace for so long, we can't afford a petty disagreement to start another century of war…" Arthur spoke sadly, but truthfully.

"Then we will not fight, we have petty arguments now and we are not in ruin." France spoke clearly and in the first time for a while he spoke almost seriously. "This is a bloody battle Arthur… If I die during one of these bloody wars. I want to be happy. To smile in spite of my last breath, thinking of someone who really meant something to me…"

Arthur was unsure of what to say, what could he say, in his absence of words he heard thundering movements in the background. Like someone was running through the building. He heard the sudden movement stop at the door as it was thrown open. "Iggy! Shit man are you al-"

Alfred seemed to freeze looking down at the other two for a moment. "Am I interrupting something?" He seemed somewhat awkward. Arthur's face almost immediately flushed red as the great nation jolted up.

"N-No, not at all!" he felt the dizzy waves get him of another blitz and tumbled into Alfred's side. "You guys look like shit," America announced catching England before his dizzy mess tumbled into the floor. He sighed leaning against the larger nation.

" _Oui,_ England needs a rest, I am fine starting the fighting against the enemy." Arthur felt like he could hear the bombs falling on his beloved people. Their screams… He shuddered and tried to shake off his shakiness.

"When will you join us America, we could use help, we look troubled as we are. The allies are fighting as fiercely as we can." England felt a rub on his back, "My bosses are kinda iffy right now, but maybe in a little while, if it's not sorted out."

Before Arthur knew it, Francis was on his feet and to his other side of Arthur touching his arm and helping support him. He hated people trying to touch him, and attempted to break away from the two.

"I am here to sign a deal for supplies to y'all, since you need metal, and relief what would be the harm in sending it to you guys." He smiled and shrugged, Arthur sighed and leant back attempting, once again to break free from the two. "That is very generous of you America. We can thank you for that." He said with a closed kind of thanks.

"I am here too." England turned to see shy little Canada leaning against the wall and smiling gently. "Oh hey there my boy. Terrific work in the… the…." Feeling like he was facing another attack. "Thank you England… are you sure that you are alright?" The tall Canadian man stepped forward gently and smiled.

The war had seemed to get to all three of them. Of course Canada being a commonwealth nation, he was shipping troops to help the war against the Axis. He looked a bit thinner, but his gentle smile was not faltering.

He carried around that little bear. It made the Brit smile almost as gentle as the others. Canada was a sweet boy, he was gentle at heart and he would do anything to help. He looked at his former brother with a look of gentle disregard. Alfred was a conflicting boy, England had a hard time judging how he felt about the boy.

"England? Are you alright? I know you were a little dizzy earlier…" Arthur looked at the American and nodded his head. "I hardly knew you both were coming today." He said randomly.

"Well I wanted to help and this is where your boss said you would be."

The Brit sighed, "Well color me surprised, Yank. You threw quite a tantrum last year." Arthur broke off of the touch between the two. "I should probably head back home, they need me there. Thank you for your assistance America, and Canada, thank you for your help…" He was starting to feel the dizzy waves coming in. It would be wise to head out before he looked even worse than he had before.

"France, I will see you...at a later date, I am going to start sending my troops over-ah." He gelt his chest tighten. The three other countries looked at him with wide eyes. "I'm fine, bugger off all of you. I don't see you all getting air strikes every twenty minutes," he growled.

He hated being treated like a china doll, he was much more than that. He walked out of the door letting it slam behind him. He had to head for the bunker to get back into London. He left in a huff with the dizzing feeling of the Blitz coming upon him every so often. It was almost impossible to live like this. That was probably the point of it all..


	3. Chapter 3

Arthur was sleeping in his bed when a bomb woke him early in the morning. He had gotten used to the dizzy spells that had become normal over the past year. He felt the dizziness subside just as he heard the phone ring. It was obscure for someone to call this early, but nothing was really normal in the times of war.

He hopped out of bed with a gentle shiver, wrapping his bathrobe around his satin, blue pajamas. "Hello?" He asked half irritated that he was up, it was still dark he could hardly read the time on the clock.

" _Angleterre…"_ Arthur felt ice flow through his veins. "France? Where are you? Why do you sound so weak?" His heart pounded in his chest roughly. "I am… not well…" His voice was a quiet whisper, "I do not think… This war will turn out well for me… _Ange…"_ Arthur felt himself stare at the wall in disbelief.

"Tell me what city you are in! I will be there in a jiff, we'll fight off the bloody Krauts, France?" He heard the gentle panting in the background. "England… I am… I want to hear one thing before I die.." Arthur felt the words reach out and choke him.

"You are not going to die!"

" _Angleterre..._ please… _J'taime_.. Tell me you love me… I want to hear that before I die…"

Arthur felt his throat seize up. It was almost like he could not breathe, "I-I Lov-," He could hardly get the words out before he heard a deafening scream. "France?" He screamed into the phone feeling his heart beat much too quickly.

The screaming went on for what felt like forever before the line went silent, but it was only for a moment. "Having fun there, England." The words were spat out like poison as he growled. "France better be alive you filthy Kraut or I will unleash a seven hells upon you!"

"Such big words for such a small country. Are you ready to surrender yet?"

"Never to you! You son of a whore! I will be the one to watch you die!" Arthur cursed through the phone, "That's no way to talk to your future master. I would prepare yourself, you have no idea our power."

Arthur felt acid tears fall down his pale and cold cheeks. The line went dead and he hung up the phone. He sniffled and wiped his eyes. He needed to do something, he had to call Churchill! He sniffled and curled up near the phone attempting to collect himself.

France was as good as dead now. He sniffled mourning the vulgar Frenchman, he had to do something, but he couldn't very well call his boss up sobbing. After somewhat collecting himself he dialed the number of the Prime Minister.

"Hello Sir, I hate to bother you at such an hour, but I have some alarming information." There was a deep sigh on the other end. "France has been overtaken. We need to start squeezing the Germans out. I know all of this England." Arthur felt himself exhale shakily, "He called me, Sir. They are in terrible shape." The prime minister gave a gruff sigh on the other end. "I will see what we can do. You know we can't-." Churchill seemed to pause.

"I will see what I can do Arthur."

Arthur shortly after hung up the phone. His eyes were still teary. He looked at his telephone, he played with the curly cord for a while. His heart hurt so deeply it was almost hard to breathe. He remembered what France had said to him the last time he saw him.

He should have kissed him. He sniffled and ran his hands through his hair. He pulled his knees to his chest and rested his eyes on his knee caps. His mind would not quit with the images of his fallen lover. Of course this was to be expected, but Arthur couldn't remember the last time that he cried. He was so old that it was hard to be sad at the fall of any nations, and sure France had been formed and reformed so many times.

But he had always been there. Even if they fought to attempt to kill one another, he never viewed it as eliminating one another. He thought it was about domination.

He had done horrible things in the past, maybe this was what hell was like. Living forever and ever, watching all of your friends die, every lover you have passes before your eyes. He hiccupped and began to get up. Suddenly he felt the foundation of his home shake. He tumbled back to the floor hitting his head on the table. The explosion shook the mansion he lived in, while it was once full of life, it looked barren and hollow lately.

He rubbed his head and then looked over at his bookshelf. A few books had fallen from the shelf and tumbled onto the floor. He sighed and began to walk over to put up his ancient books. He saw one that was rather new fall off the shelf.

As if fate was rubbing salt in the wound it was an English to French dictionary. He tossed it back on the shelf haphazardly. He knew what he had to do. The only chance of them winning this war was pulling Alfred back in.

The meeting room was tense. All of the allies looked rather beaten, China was thin and paler than he usually was, England himself was white as a ghost and skinnier than he usually was, the pattern repeated throughout the group, Canada even looked tired. The absence of France haunted almost every western country's eyes. Russia seemed even slightly less energetic than usual.

The Allied powers were meeting with America today, to talk of some desperate need for relief. The only place that he was sure he dominated was the seas. Sinking some of Germany's U Boats seemed to work in their favor.

They met in an underground bunker in the midst of london. Of course it was a lot easier to meet here for most of the western countries. It was also one of the most dangerous places to be grouped, while the Blitz was still going on to a degree, it was the easiest place to meet.

"He should be arriving soon, now," Arthur paused looking away from some of his commonwealth nations, "Use manners, America is still very much a child, he responds strangely to pretty much everything, be polite, we need help, more resources if that is all."

Suddenly there he was running through the doors, "You are late." England could not help but to remind him. "Haha! Hey I am still here, your airports are a pain in the ass. How's it goin'-" He paused and felt himself serious up a little. "Not great hunh? Well, I have some good news, and some kinda shitty news…"

The American sat down and went on to explain how after just leaving the depression, his boss wanted him to stay neutral from European affairs. He offered more weapons, and some other kinds of supplies.

England was half in tune to the entire conversation. He kept looking to where France's seat was supposed to be. When did he become such a sentimental old sap..? He felt another wave of dizziness wrack his body and he looked around the room bewildered.

"England…" A small voice next to him said. He leant against Matthew's shoulder. His eyes closed, "I am fine Canada… Just a tad bit dizzy…" He mumbled in a sort of slurred English. "Can you excuse us..?" Canada said softly and not many people seemed to notice as Canada began to stand, he kept a hand on Arthur's elbow and attempted to escort the older more frail nation out of the room, perhaps a drink of water would help clear his head.

England's vision swam as he felt his former child sit him down somewhere.

"We are in the lobby area… relax I will go and get you something to drink." Matthew claimed before walking off.

"I will talk to my boss."

Arthur felt his vision beginning to clear as he looked over at the American. "America?" He mumbled only half sure that it was him. "I would appreciate it, but don't just do it for me. I may be a pitiful old man, but I am not the only one here who is struggling…" He said half thinking about what he was saying.

"We are going to have to sometime… You know that… japan has been getting more and more demanding, so we've just embargoed him." He heard the chuckle in the others voice. "I'll go talk to Canada and take you home, you look like you could use some rest."

Arthur was about to protest, but as suddenly as he came, he left. He slumped against the chair, this entire war was making a mess of his life.


	4. Chapter 4

Arthur couldn't remember much of the drive home. He just leant on Alfred's shoulder as bombs dropped around them. Alfred swerved every once and awhile to avoid an explosion. That was what it was like in London. This was usual for this time. Of course there was a time when the bombs stopped for a bit and Arthur was catching his breath from all of the dizzy waves that had hit him.

"You drive like a yank." He mumbled getting nothing but an obnoxious laugh. "I think that the bombs have subsided for now…" He said feeling slightly nauseated. The bumps in the road did not help. This war was killing him, he could tell.

"You look terrible England. You've lost so much weight…" Alfred pulled into the gate and punched in the code. "You remember it?" Arthur chuckled. "Yeah man you really have to change that." Alfred spoke clearly and Arthur let out a groan. "America…" He mumbled pinching the bridge of his nose attempting to keep his nausea at bay.

"Yeah?"

"I really think I am going to be sick…" He groaned.

The movement of the car was doing wonders to his crippled mind. "It's this bloody war…" He grumbled as if it was some kind of excuse, "I miss France… and God damn it all, I never thought I would say that!"

He felt tears begin to rise up with the pain in his stomach. "I am causing pain to your brother, and to all the territories." He put a hand up to his face and balled up his fist. "It hasn't ever been this bad…" He sniffled and wiped his eyes, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket and dabbing his eyes elegantly.

"I-I am sorry Iggy…" Arthur hardly cringed at that nickname. "I… I am gonna talk to my boss about helping out, but they are pretty reluctant on getting in another war… I…" It seemed like the American was at a loss of words for once.

Arthur began to open his door, but soon realized he was having a hard time even getting out of the door. He tumbled and scraped his knee on the ground ripping the kneecap of his pants.

The American was at his side almost immediately. "Stop! Stop I don't want to vomit on you…" Arthur yelled out somewhat on all fours puking his guts out. It seemed like it was forever he was sitting there shaking until he was brought up to the house.

"Your room still in the same spot?"

Arthur nodded his head. Oh how pathetic he was! It bothered him half to death as another dizzy wave struck. "I need to help you guys… I promise England I will find a way to get back in… I mean we may not have a chance Japan is being… he… We aren't getting along… He has fucked China up… You know…" Arthur felt himself sigh as a response.

"I'll get you some water after I get you into bed… I will hang out for a bit… my flight isn't until tomorrow... " He breathed out slowly slipping the man under the covers. He didn't bother to take off his suit, only his shoes. "You don't have to pamper me. I am a grown man I can care for my bloody self." He grumbled.

"You can't even stand up… I need to help you out…."

Arthur surprised himself when he let him.

Over the next six months Alfred had stopped by every month at least once or twice. He claimed that it was to check on Arthur, who had been a bumbling mess the last time that he saw him. Each time arthur seemed to improve a small bit.

He didn't even mind when Alfred began to bring him flowers. Roses were absolutely his favourite. He would put them in a vase on the kitchen counter and admired them for hours on end. He felt like they were building up a friendly relationship for the first time in a while.

He almost called Alfred, "My Boy." One time and just got some chuckles from the others. Of course this new found love for Alfred was completely platonic. He was haunted by Francis's last word nightly.

Sitting in his kitchen after one of Alfred's visits was surprisingly joyful. He looked at the new roses and brought one up to his nose and smelled its hushed scent. "How lovely…" He heard a bang on the door.

How rude could some people be? It was probably one of his hooligan generals. How absurd! "Don't get your knickers in a twist!" He called grouchily. He hated their home visits checking on his health to determine the health of the nation.

He swung the door open and was greeted by a falling mass. "I can't see…" He heard the whining words and dizzied confusion. Arthur recognized his former son and then gasped. "Alfred! What happened?"

Alfred seemed too disoriented. "It burns!" He cried out. Arthur draped his arm over his shoulders. "He threw acid in my eyes!" Alfred said seeming like he was trying to mask the pain in his face. Arthur dared himself to look up and saw the mangled burned mess that was Alfred's face. He wasn't even sure that he could take the glasses off they seemed like they were burned into his skin.

"It's okay!" He shushed the younger nation as Alfred seemed to grimace, "Help! He's-He's gonna hurt my people!" He did not seem to know where he was. Arthur sat him down, "Alfred calm down… I know you cannot see, but listen to my voice. It is England…"

"E-England…" The American whined in his pain. "I-I can't see you." Arthur sighed looking at the burned and blistering skin.

"I need you to breathe… It… I am going to call a medic. It will be easier to manage the pain if we can get you on some medications…."

"Who did this?"

"Japan… He got pissed I would not trade anymore. I…" He seemed too much in pain to keep talking. "America… I need you to keep talking to me…" He whispered.

"It hurts so badly…"

"Shh… Tell me a memory of yours…" He wrapped his fingers around the others hand

How did Japan get into his country? Attack Alfred… Oh bloody hell this was a mess.

It took the paramedics an agonizingly long time to get there. When they got there they began to knock Alfred out with some drugs. Alfred refused to let go of Arthur so he just sat there with the other who was now as unconcious as could be.

"England!" He heard the loud yell behind him. "Yes General-." "How hadn't you been able to tell that the Japanese were in our country? Why is the personification of the United States here? And why the bleeding hell is he here…" He huffed.

"He was trying to be a friend. Of course mortals never understand what it is like to raise a country from the bloody ground, but he remembers at least the somewhat decent parts of me. He visits for supplies deals!" He hissed. "I have no idea how Japan go in here. Perhaps it was your bloody border patrols incompetents."

The General seemed to be knocked down a peg as the people began to attempt to fix Alfred's face. "We have a lot of explaining to President-."

"Then bloody well explain! I am busy!"

"England, you have no idea.. His country they were bombed in their pacific fleet…" This made sense to Arthur. "It must be why he hasn't healed past this already… He can't see.. It should heal on it's own, but…" He looked to the doctors.

"You can dope him up for a while to take the pain away…?" He asked softly. The nurse nodded her hair becoming disheveled in her work. "He may not be able to see as well as he used to when it heals, him being a nation and all, we have done intense studies to see your healing abilities…" She stopped talking all of a sudden. "He should be fine… He will just need a month or so to recover from the damage done to the skin on his face and on his eyes…"

"General, call the President, I am going to be taking care of America for a short bit. He is in no shape to make the trip home as of now."

 **A lot of stuff went down in this chapter! Enjoy.**

 **Love you all,**

 **-J**


	5. Chapter 5

Arthur couldn't say that his time with Alfred was unpleasant. Of course the means of them spending time together was an unpleasant one, but this reminded Arthur of a simpler time. A time when the American seemed to allow himself to depend on someone, and Arthur was glad to be that someone.

The first couple weeks took some getting used to. Alfred was bloody well blind and was doped up so much it was hard enough for him to communicate. The doctors from the U.S. decided it was best to keep him like this for at least a month. Acid was a hard thing to wash out and they had no idea how long it would take for the repair of Pearl Harbor, which would be when Alfred would ultimately start healing.

Of course Arthur was fearful to leave him alone. He didn't want to leave Alfred in a time of the Blitz at his home all by himself when he went to meetings. He had somehow convinced Matthew to stay at his house at well to watch over his brother when Arthur was not home.

Of course there was still much of the fighting to be done. This unforgivable act by Japan would not be forgotten. Alfred was so drugged up he couldn't even get up to take a piss by himself. How was this something one nation could do to another?

Arthur sighed, hating how he felt surprised by the aggression of the Japanese. Kiku had once been a friend, a lover, and now he was hurting one of Arthur's friends. He shook his head and slowly rose from his bed in the morning. They were slowly starting to wean Alfred off of the painkillers. His face was still a mangled mess, but it showed signs of regeneration around his eyes. The irises had come back to life, but the pupils had remained this milky white color.

Arthur walked down the stairs of his home, smelling something good cooking in the kitchen. He trudged downstairs without a word, afraid to wake Alfred who slept in the room adjacent to the Brit.

"Matthew?" He called quietly once getting in the kitchen. His head felt light and his body was heavy, of course the bombings hadn't stopped, but it seemed like they were coming less and less lately.

"I'm making pancakes..." He heard from the kitchen, "Alfred likes them, even though he's such a jackass, it's rough seeing him like this, y'know?" The Canadian said the words quickly and seemingly nervously.

"Indeed," was all that Arthur could muster back, "I think he is getting tired of my scones." Matthew gave a gentle snort, but politely said nothing. "He needs to eat and such, would you mind going and waking him up?" Matthew asked.

Arthur nodded and went back upstairs. He jogged there as if there was some sort of prize for getting there quickly.

"Alfie…" He called in a sweet and gentle voice. "It's time to-oh my Lord!" Arthur swung the door open and then saw Alfred laying on the floor. Alfred made some sort of sound of acknowledgement and moved to his back. "England...where are you… I can't see you…" Arthur rushed to his side. "Oh America, what have I told you about getting up by yourself." He slowly helped the American sit up, and then slowly stand up. "I'm blind, but I'm not dumb, I thought I had a feel for the room." Alfred seemed to snuggle closer to his support.

"Are you hurt anywhere?" Arthur asked getting a shake of the head as a no. "Can we go outside today? I haven't been outside in like forever." He said in a gentle voice. "Sure, The weather is rather frigid, but for a short time we can."

Alfred seemed to nod, "Hey I don't wanna freak Canada out, can you grab my sunglasses?" Alfred said with a sturdy grip on Arthur's arm. Arthur reached over on the nightstand still helping support Alfred. He grabbed a pair of sunglasses and slowly slipped them on Alfred's face.

"Thanks," He mumbled looking around as if he could somewhat see. "I think it's getting better, it went from shadows to shapes." He said seeming reluctant to move again. It was a struggle to get him down the stairs, but it was done.

"Hey Canada," Alfred called, the American seemed to feel his way around the room to struggle to the table. Arthur shadowed him heavily, "Be careful!" He growled softly. Matthew rolled his eyes and began to set down several plates on the table of pancakes.

Arthur's mood seemed somewhat better now that he was taking care of Alfred, of course it was only temporary until it was safe for Alfred to go home to his country. He would heal best there, they just needed to get a bit of his vision back to how it had been.

As Alfred plopped down into the chair, Arthur sat next to him, Matthew sat across from them. Arthur felt his fingers twitch as he looked at the fourth set place. Matthew must have done that by accident.

He couldn't help but to think back…

He saw the lit up smile of an old friend in his mind. He suddenly felt his chest tight and he stood. "Excuse me." He left the table tucking in his chair and walking off to the bathroom. He locked himself in there and felt himself almost collapse when he had gotten into the room. He felt a gentle tear pour down his cheek as he sat on the floor next to the toilet.

With his worry and sadness for the absence of Francis made his chest sting, like a fresh wound. He felt his head soon become nauseated and he emptied his stomach into the toilet. He felt very weak after that. He was in fact weak, he really hadn't all recovered from the Blitz. He was always getting sick and he hardly ate. There had to be a way to get Francis back. His head swam as he heard a noise bang on the door.

"England...Are you getting sick…?" He heard the soft and gentle voice and sighed softly. "Canada… I'm fine…" He began feeling at a loss for words. He washed the sick away and washed his mouth out in the sink.

"America was getting worried, he sent me over…" The Canadian said though the door. "I'm fine Canada, I was not, I just had a bit of held on melancholy…" The older country slowly opened the door and frowned. "I'm really fine." He concluded. His eyes avoided looking Matthew directly in the eyes.

"You miss him don't you…?"

Arthur opened his mouth to rebuttal that with some kind of sass. He felt nothing but the tears come, "Bloody hell I do…" He said as he felt himself choking on the tears. He felt a pair of strong arms go around him. "I miss him too… we are going to get him back, as soon as America gets his sight back… nothing will be able to stop us. I swear… we will get Papa back…"

They stood there like that for a while with Arthur crying his eyes out. He was pretty sure that Matthew had started crying as well sometime during that, but it was almost impossible that Alfred hadn't heard them.

When they returned to the table of the blind nation, he said nothing. He was sitting there with his sunglasses staring down at the untouched pancakes. It was silent after that, just the scraping of cutlery against the the plates.

Arthur was too used to the silence.


	6. Chapter 6

As Arthur sat in plane, he could feel the gentle rocking of the aircraft lulling him into sleep. Though every time it seemed as if he could doze off for a few minutes he was jerked awake by a sudden turbulence.

As he was jolted awake, he groggily looked to the side of him, then the other side. Not only Matthew, but also Alfred, were curled up and leaning on his shoulder. He smiled for a moment allowing himself to reminisce the old days. When he used to be the one they both looked up to. He wiped the sleep from his eyes and gradually began to wake from his slumber.

Their intelligence informed them that the Germans were beginning to retreat back to their own country. They had been winning until the American involvement, but with Alfred's guns, weaponry, and military. They were beginning to see that their resist was futile. He looked around the plane and saw few nations. Somehow the Russian's had agreed to allow Ivan to come. Many of the other European countries were too busy fighting on their own fronts to recover a fallen power. The Russian sat silently reading through a book.

As far as his boss knew, Arthur was at home, trying to hold up the fort. While the Americans were assisting the French uprising. The three were going to sneak in and extract the country himself. It was highly a secret, human's hardly knew about the countries themselves. They just knew they were protecting and torturing a highly important prisoner of war.

He placed his hands on each of the sleeping boy's heads. "Tout va être." He whispered softly hoping that wandering ears would pick up his soft, and terrible French. He felt a soft tremble run through his fingers. He hoped that this whole mission would work out, it was getting worse and worse each day.

As Arthur rudely stared at him Ivan seemed to notice his attention and look up. Arthur felt embarrassment creep up in his cheeks, as he looked away.

He heard a deep, villainous chuckle and allowed his eyes to fall back on the odd ally.

"You have fear in your eyes. Why is that?" Ivan said in a lowered tone as if he was aware of the sleeping boys on each of Arthur's shoulders. "I have no fear." Arthur stated simply. Ivan flat out laughed, "You have fear, it is written all over you." Arthur frowned at that and glared over to his forced ally, "I am sure you would know nothing of what fear looks like, you're a menacing beast," he snapped back.

Another laugh followed Arthur's defensive tone, "You are afraid for your friend, he has been in pain for several years, no. While you sat by." Arthur opened his mouth to retort, but had nothing to say. "I understand, some things are just out of your control. You cannot protect everyone." Ivan shrugged. "Sometimes you just have to let others suffer, it is the way of the world. We cannot control how they suffer, we can control how we help them."

Arthur looked away for a moment, thinking of what Ivan had just said.

"You cannot protect anyone in this world." He stated simply.

With that the ride was silent, the occasional bump in the cabin provided the two with an unspoken agreement.

As Arthur looked down he let his eyes fix on Alfred, his eyesight had improved, it was still not as it had been, but it had improved. He wished he could say the same for Alfred's face, There were terrible scars under each of his eyes and across his nose. It gradually had been getting better, as the base continued to be built. It was as if it stunted his ability to heal.

He shook his head and leaned his head back, he wondered what Francis was doing now. He wondered if he was still alive. As that thought ran through his mind, he shuddered. What if Francis had vanished? He tried to shake the idea from his head, as the anxiety still crept through his chest.

He looked around as the boys remained asleep. The cargo plane shook and he looked down at his lap, they were going to have to land sometime soon. He just wasn't sure if he was ready to handle the situation on the ground.

As the plane landed, there was fire in the air. Arthur slowly shook the boys as to wake them. Ivan simply closed his book and sat it on the seat next to him.

Matthew woke quicker than his brother. He ran a hand through his sandy long hair, and adjusted his glasses on his face. "We are here? Do we know where they are keeping Papa?" Arthur felt a stab in his heart, Matthew hadn't called Francis that in a very long time.

"I believe so." He said with one more gentle nudge of Alfred. He saw the country begin to come to life. Alfred blinked his eyes a few times, as he opened them, Arthur could tell they were getting clearer, gone was the milky color that bled into the iris, and returned was the crystal blue orbs that had stared at him since they had first met.

Arthur began to stand up and felt himself weak after a moment. He plopped back in his seat very ungraceful. "Arthu-," the older nation held up a hand to stop the words from coming out. "I am just a little fatigued, give me a moment to get up." He struggled, but was eventually back on his feet.

Alfred and Matthew looked at one another, then to Ivan, then back down at the floor. They knew better than to say anything. "Go grab your gear, it is provided in the back of the plane. Do not forget, we are on enemy territory, our extraction point is a quarter of a mile from here and we leave in six hours on the dot. If you are late, you remain here." Arthur babbled as he got himself up and walked to the uniforms. He slowly began to put on the vests and the helmets and a few weapons for himself.

"We are searching a German laboratory where I have been told Francis may be at. The bad news is that it is heavily armed, the good news is the outside is probably the most heavily armed area. We are going to quietly, sneak in a back exit, if we can take out the guards in one area, we can get inside."

He looked at the three other men he had in front of him. "Ivan you are the most intimidating, but also the most visible, you are going to stay as backup once we get in, to make sure we can get out. Alfred, Matthew and myself will split up and search through the facility."

With that he nodded at the three other's and exited the plane, all followed behind him in tow.

Getting in the building proved to be easier than they thought, suspiciously easier. There had not been as many guards as expected, the back was totally unsupervised and Alfred had no issues picking the lock.

As Ivan stayed back, Arthur and the other two began to search the halls.

"Arthur," he heard as he turned around to face a former colony, "I think this is a setup, there is practically no one here." Arthur shook his head, he was too close, much too close to risk being wrong.

"It isn't, split up, if you get in trouble, start firing shots, I'll be there as soon as I can. If you find him," He whispered in a hushed voice cutting himself off to tap on the walkie-talkie on his hip.

Begrudgingly, Alfred nodded and went off in one direction, Matthew in the other, Arthur was left to follow the path ahead of him. He walked quietly, and looked around, he heard footsteps distantly in front of him, and they sounded like they were getting closer and closer. _Tap. Tap. Tap._

He followed the path and attempted to stay in the shadows.

As he walked, he began to see somewhat of a corner, he would have to turn. It felt like this all went on for forever, the hall was long and eerie. When he approached the corner, he could hear a muffled voice. He heard a distinct conversation in German, and strained his ears to attempt to make out what they were saying, his German was shotty, but good enough.

He looked around the corner for a second, and saw a tall, blond figure demanding orders to smaller, well average sized, blond men in front of him. He counted a total of three of them, he wondered why all German's resembled their country. He shook his head and exhaled softly, he had to take these men out.

As he peeked his eyes around the corner once more two of the men had run off, the was only one who remained. He furrowed his brows and attempted to get a closer look, pulling a pistol from his uniform, he knew he had one shot while the man was facing away. He quickly stepped around the corner.

Arthur thought he was being silent, but the man must have heard something to turn his head quickly. Arthur blinked and scoff, he fired a shot and hit the man in the leg, oh what luck. The man didn't fall to the ground, but he looked alarmed.

It was them Arthur realized who this was, Ludwig. He gasped and began to fire shots freely, his adrenaline must have kicked in because he missed a good few of them. Unfortunately, Ludwig dove around the corner, Arthur looked for a place to dodge for cover, but by then it was too late.

As Ludwig poked his weapon around the corner, Arthur heard opposing gunshots. He rushed back against the wall and counted them. One, two, three, four. He breathed in relief as he found himself unscathed, he rubbed his side, where the vest had been pushing into his lower abdomen, pinching him. When he heard footsteps, he got up and started chasing after him.

"Get back here you, Bastard!" Arthur shouted in the chaos. He felt the blood pumping through his veins, and a dizzying high pass through his brain, making him feel light headed. He began to chase after Ludwig, having no idea where he vanished to before he heard the buzz of static.

"Arthur! We found him! Head down my way! You gotta get over here! Mattie, Hang on-." Arthur felt a pang of worry and relief across his chest, before the static cut off.

He had a choice to make. He could go after this criminal, or he could go after Francis.

With a curse, he ran off to find Alfred.


End file.
